


at a crossroads

by sstarryknight



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Budding Love, Fluff, Kissing, Light Angst, M/M, Mild Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-11
Updated: 2015-05-22
Packaged: 2019-09-22 17:28:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17064020
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sstarryknight/pseuds/sstarryknight
Summary: the do family boarding house gets a new boarder.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> ( warning: language )
> 
> requested and kind-of-but-not-really beta'd by the one and only raine. used google translate for the boarding house name bc i'm trash so i'm really sorry if it turns out to be something completely different! i am not sure if jongin is really from suncheon omg.
> 
> [ 150511 ]
> 
> \---
> 
> i'm importing some near-ancient fic from my old livejournal in the hopes of reviving my not-so-successful fic writing career. please bear with me!
> 
> [ 181219 ]

chanyeol nudged kyungsoo with his shoulder. “stop looking at him like that,” he murmured.

kyungsoo moved his eyes from the new kid across the table to glare at chanyeol beside him while absentmindedly rubbing his own shoulder. deciding he wasn’t insulted enough to give chanyeol a proper punishment, he picked up his chopsticks again. “looking at him like what,” he murmured back, shifting around the strands of _japchae_ on his plate to gather a decent clump. new kid--jongin, was it?--is busy laughing at something the _maknae_ , sehun, has said and it’s not like he’s going to notice this particular conversation out of the simultaneous talking of twelve boys around the dinner table.

“like you’re planning to perform some dark, satanic ritual on him once he’s asleep!” chanyeol whispers indignantly, bits of noodle flying out of his mouth in the process. stay classy, park chanyeol, kyungsoo thinks.

“it’s just. my face,” kyungsoo replies calmly. “if he’s going to be staying here, he needs to get used to it anyway. i’m completely harmless.”

chanyeol chokes on his food. kyungsoo watches him pound a fist against his chest pitifully, after which he reaches for his water glass.

“okay, fine. i’m completely harmless unless you give me reason not to be.”

“wow,” chanyeol mutters, apparently recovered from his coughing fit. “you’re horrible.”

“i cook your food, arrange for your laundry to be done and your room to be cleaned, and allow you to _live_ in this house. so. say that again, chanyeol.” kyungsoo pins him down with his stare. he doesn’t even have to contort his expression into anything terrifying because his resting face does the job just fine, if the way chanyeol shrinks into his seat is anything to go by. _i thought so_.

“stop bullying him, kyungsoo- _yah_ ,” a voice pipes up from beside him. minseok is looking at him expectantly, sucking on his spoon.

who allowed minseok to be a thing, kyungsoo thinks, feeling his resolve shatter into pieces.

“it’s not 'bullying,' _hyung_ ,” he says. “it’s 'domesticating.'”

chanyeol makes whining noises from his right. kyungsoo silences him with a look.

“i’m your _hyung_ too. why don’t you call me _hyung_?” the pout in chanyeol’s voice is audible.

“minseok- _hyung_ is special.”

more whining noises. kyungsoo gives up.

“who’s he rooming with anyway?” jongdae cuts in, leaning across chanyeol to whisper to kyungsoo. “so yifan and zitao are in one room, sehun and junmyeon, baekhyun and me in another,“--he counts off the names with his fingers--”lu han and yixing, chanyeol and minseok, then _you_ don’t have a roommate--” jongdae is silent for a second. “oh.”

“oh my _god_.”

“shut up, chanyeol.” with that, kyungsoo spears a piece of carrot with his chopsticks.

\---

do kyungsoo’s parents are the proud owners of kyocharo boarding house, located in the lower bowels of sageun- _dong_ and walking distance from hanyang university, which is conveniently the university all its boarders are enrolled in. though it's kyungsoo who feels like the owner more than ever now that his parents moved back to gyeonggi- _do_ , to an even bigger house than kyocharo. he takes care of collecting rent which includes payment for the food he cooks, the cleaning service, and the laundry service, as well as for running water, electricity, internet, and the like. he calls the shots around the house: who gets to be in it, who stays in which room, what they watch on tv--things like that. the food fee is non-negotiable, but no one bothers eating anywhere on wangsimni- _ro_ anyway when kyungsoo charges for much less at home and makes enough for at least ten people to have second helpings. he makes packed lunches on special occasions or when he's feeling generous and buys cake from the shop around the corner on birthdays. everyone leaves the house at more or less the same time, runs into each other on campus or in class, and gets home at more or less the same time. it's routine and it's familiar and it's comfortable and kyungsoo dares to call them family, but never out loud. he has a reputation to uphold.

he thinks they know it all the same, somehow.

\---

kyungsoo has his headphones on at his desk, a playlist of his favorite eric benet songs on shuffle, when there's a timid knock on the door. it's so timid kyungsoo thinks he might have imagined it, but when he pulls off the headphones and turns the doorknob, a timid kim jongin stands in the way. kyungsoo wonders how he manages to look small when he's at least three inches taller than kyungsoo. but right now he looks like a puppy looking for affirmation--it's almost pathetic but really--

jongin breaks into a sheepish grin.

\--adorable?

fuck.

"jongin." kyungsoo is relieved his voice doesn't betray a single line of that stupid, stupid internal monologue. "this is your room? you don't have to knock." he wonders if he forgot to tell jongin where his room even was--only he distinctly remembers giving him the routine kyocharo tour earlier that day, because jongin accidentally knocked over a potted plant and proceeded to apologize at least ten times in a row until kyungsoo clapped a hand over his mouth and said that it was fine for the nth time. who even knocks in this house. no one. no one has any idea what privacy means in this house except for do kyungsoo and also, apparently, kim jongin.

kyungsoo returns to his desk, closing the programs on his laptop so he can shut down and quit for the night.

"sorry," jongin says quietly. "i didn't want to intrude or anything."

"the others never knock and they don't even room with me. don't worry about it."

jongin gives a small smile as he leans against the door, pushing it closed. "thanks, _hyung_."

"besides, what would you have done if i just shut the door in your face?"

jongin chuckles nervously, unsure how to answer--whether to answer at all, really.

kyungsoo watches as he goes over to his side of the room. he's obviously still scared of him. _still_ because it's not even a question whether jongin's scared of him or not-- _everyone's_ scared of him. hell, the other boarders warmed up to each other faster than they did to him, but they did eventually. it wasn't really something kyungsoo took personally. chanyeol, having known kyungsoo since the ever-awkward pubescent years of acne and video games and being the first boarder to move in, is usually the one who takes charge of telling the newcomers how _not all bad_ kyungsoo is, something kyungsoo has never asked him to do in the first place goddammit chanyeol please.

the knocking thing got to kyungsoo, though. jongin was a good kid. the kind of kid that still sent his mother flowers on mother's day and volunteered at animal shelters and cried over his favorite animes ending, probably. kyungsoo found himself wanting to prove that he was _not all bad_ to jongin, without chanyeol's help. he wanted to prove to him that he wasn't bad at all.

"kyungsoo- _hyung_?"

"wh--i--yes, what?"

jongin was sitting up on his bed, already huddled under his blankets. "you're staring at me." his eyes are wide with innocence and genuine concern as to why his _hyung_ is acting like a total nutjob.

"sorry. spaced out."

"that's okay." jongin smiles. the corners of his mouth are still tense with nervousness.

kyungsoo sighs at himself. he stands to turn out the light, then tucks himself into his own bed.

after a minute of silence, kyungsoo decides to try and goes, "jongin?"

he receives a quiet "yes, _hyung_ " in reply.

"where are you from?"

"suncheon."

"you miss it there?"

"a bit, yes."

"you're a first year."

"mmhm."

"course?"

"dance."

"performing arts. impressive."

"i'm okay."

"what does kim jongin like to do in his spare time?"

"i dance. and."

kyungsoo waits. he waits for around thirty seconds.

"jongin?"

he receives a soft sigh in reply. _oh_.

kyungsoo chuckles quietly to himself. "good night, jongin." his own eyelids fall closed and his mind goes foggy as he lets sleep take him. it almost does but not before he hears--

"good night, kyungsoo- _hyung_."

\---

he wakes up the next morning, his alarm ringing for five-thirty, unsure whether he dreamed that small good night or not. he glances at the jongin-shaped lump under the blankets in the other bed.

he shakes his head. he needs to make breakfast.

\---

kyungsoo isn't sure how much more he can take of this.

whether kyungsoo suggests that they pop down to the nearest _pojangmacha_ for some _tteokbokki_ , or he offers to drop him off at the venue for his mt, or he finds him at the dinner table late at night nibbling on some cookies, kim jongin will always find a way to wriggle out of being in a situation with kyungsoo alone.

he wonders if he’s done something wrong so he talks to jongdae about it. he’s known chanyeol for the longest but chanyeol is _soju_ , 3 am street lights, and fireworks. jongdae, on the other hand, is ice cream, rain showers, and freshly washed linen. he’ll go to chanyeol when he wants to forget but he goes to jongdae when he needs to pick up the pieces and _do_ something.

he brings it up in the middle of a cover recording.

“jongdae.”

jongdae’s fingers promptly end the ditty they’ve been tapping out on the keyboard that sounded suspiciously like a rearranged _never gonna give you up._

“what up.”

“okay, um. about jongin--”

“jongin is adorable you've made a good choice,” jongdae declares. “sorry. go on.”

“...anyway. yeah. he’s been avoiding me lately.”

“you sure that’s not just _your_ version of events?”

“jongdae, it’s me. i’m not zitao. i know what i’m talking about.”

jongdae snorts. “point taken. but have you tried talking to him?”

“zitao?”

“wh--no--jongin, _jongin_ , you cabbage.”

“kim jongdae, did you just call me a cabbage.”

he sticks his chin out defiantly. “what of it?”

kyungsoo chuckles, shaking his head. “okay, fine. i’ll talk to him. now let’s finish this,” he says, nodding to the open garageband window on his mac.

\---

it just so happens that the next day is a holiday and baekhyun wakes the whole house up with “let’s go to chungcheooong!” and kyungsoo is about to object because first of all _why_ and second of all do you know how much planning is involved cross-province outings but zitao and yixing want to see the beach and chanyeol is already yelling “road trip!” in his booming voice and sehun seconds the motion with a “yeah, can we do something fun for once?” and the other _hyungs_ are beginning to nod in approval and suddenly everyone is very game for a spontaneous road trip to ggotji beach in a rented van.

that is how kyungsoo ends up sitting on the sand in his shorts, watching the silhouettes of the others prance around like idiots in the water by the light of the dying sun. there's a bonfire (on chanyeol's demand) in the middle of where they had set up camp, so to speak, and there are paper plates and wooden skewers scattered everywhere. lu han beats kyungsoo to the last stick of _odeng_ but lu han lets him have a bite before skipping to the water, skewer in mouth and all. idiot, kyungsoo thinks fondly.

before he knows it, he and jongin are the only ones left on the beach. jongin doesn't realize it either until seconds later when he jumps like he's been stung and shifts his weight around to stand up.

"jongin, wait," kyungsoo says, pinching a bit of jongin's shirt between his fingers. he looks so much like a deer in headlights that kyungsoo almost lets him go, but this has to be done.

jongin sits back down, looking at kyungsoo expectantly.

kyungsoo has never been afraid of confrontation, but he isn't so sure what to say now. "um." he traces patterns in the patch of sand in front of him. "you're scared of me, aren't you."

jongin still doesn't say anything.

"i mean, it's okay," kyungsoo goes on, his finger tracing more and more rapidly in the sand, "it's nothing new. like, i used to set yifan on edge when he was new here. _yifan_. guy could probably break ten of my bones in a span of three seconds if he wasn't so much of a goofball, but we're alright now. i know i look kind of intimidating but i _swear_ \--"

"i'm not scared of you, _hyung_ ," jongin says almost indignantly.

"i--oh?" kyungsoo looks up at him, mildly surprised. "but you've been avoiding me--?"

"chanyeol- _hyung_ just says you like being alone, is all," the boy mumbles. he pulls his knees up to his chest and he looks so small again.

park chanyeol needs to get his long, gangly self the hell out of do kyungsoo's business. he makes a mental note to chop him one on the neck later.

"don't take chanyeol so seriously. he talks as much shit as he is tall."

jongin lets out a little chuckle, boyish and innocent and oh god it's--

"you're funny, _hyung_."

\--adorable?

kyungsoo is so fucked, he thinks as they sit in the van on the way home.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in my head, jongin is dancing something like [this](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=de7yXdLWhgE). idk how to write dancing lol. this part felt a little messier and more forced but it's all written out now so here.
> 
> [ 150517 ]
> 
> \---
> 
> the video i used as reference for jongin's performance has long been deleted and i sadly cannot find another upload of it.
> 
> [ 181219 ]

his sleep is interrupted by quiet sobbing coming from his right. kyungsoo assumes it's homesickness--it gets to the best of them, save for the seoul crowd. the boarders have each other, yes, but there are nights when the phone calls and even the packages don't cut it. nothing really beats your first home, after all.

kyungsoo rubs his eyes before pushing himself off his bed. he's not about to let a nineteen-year-old kid cry himself to sleep. chanyeol may say otherwise, but kyungsoo does have a heart.

he presses the switch of the lamp and the jongin-shaped lump under the covers is blanketed by a soft yellow. he gently pulls at the bump he assumes is jongin’s shoulder to get him to face kyungsoo instead of the wall. the blanket slips down jongin’s form and his eyelashes and cheeks are damp with tears, his teeth clamping down on his lower lip to suffocate the sobs in his throat before they make it out of his mouth. kyungsoo would be surprised at the stinging something he feels in his chest at the sight, if he wasn’t too busy feeling the stinging in the first place.

it’s not right, it’s not right for jongin to be crying, for someone whose laugh sounds like he means it every time, whose very eyes feel warm and quiet and deep all at the same time, for someone who just radiates  _good_ to be crying. kyungsoo wants to see him smile again and to keep him smiling and he doesn’t know why.

jongin sits up and rubs his knuckles against his eyes, his shoulders still shaking. kyungsoo folds his legs under himself so he can sit on the small space beside jongin’s knees.

“what’s wrong,” he whispers.

it’s hard for jongin to get the words out, but he tries. “m--m--my dog is really--sick and they’re saying it’s liver cancer a--and the surgery is--is really expensive and what if mom isn’t willing to--pay for i--it? what if they--put him to s--sleep? i’m s--scared--”

kyungsoo leans forward. his hand lands on the nightstand for support and ends up pressing the lamp switch again. he kisses jongin in the dark. he’s very warm, kyungsoo thinks. very warm and soft and he has to pull away  _now_ or else he’s just going to keep going on forever, all processes of thought abandoned (as if they hadn’t been already). so he pulls away reluctantly, but not before murmuring “feel better soon” against the corner of jongin’s mouth.

kyungsoo goes back to his bed and curls up into a ball underneath his blankets, hoping he drowns tangled up in his sheets so he doesn’t have to deal with the consequences of the morning after.

before sleep takes him, he realizes it’s quiet.

\---

it’s as if nothing has happened.

the boarders of kyocharo wake up, line up for the bathroom, and have breakfast, same as always. it’s better than what kyungsoo could have ever asked for--he’s not waiting for anything to happen, he’s not expecting anything. it started and ended that one night and that was the last he would hear of it ever

except that--well--

baekhyun lands on the sofa heavily, laptop in hand and amused grin well in place. “got yourself a shadow, have you?”

kyungsoo rolls his eyes. “shut up.” he tries to go back to his term paper, but his fingers hesitate against the keys of his own computer.

it’s been three days since the...incident and it seemed that jongin was quite intent on hanging around kyungsoo at every waking moment possible. at the dinner table, in the living room, even while running errands at the convenience store on the corner--jongin would be there. it’s a lot less creepy than it sounds seeing as jongin is menacing as baekhyun is tolerable and the puppy image is as vivid in kyungsoo’s mind as it was on jongin’s first day. if not even more so.

much to kyungsoo’s annoyance, baekhyun’s free to bring it up now since jongin is staying late at hanyang to train with his coursemates for his first performance.

“no, but seriously--” baekhyun goes on talking because that is, of course, what he always does. why is kyungsoo not surprised. “--kid’s been following you around ever since we got back from ggotji. what’d you do to him?”

kyungsoo would say he feels like slapping the goddamned grin off baek’s face but that would be like saying he breathes air or ‘chanyeol has large ears’ or ‘jongin is really fucking adorable’--

never mind.

“i wonder why he’s doing that.” he goes on to say. “what if he has a crush on you? which would be like, hilarious, but there’s no accounting for taste--anyway, it’d explain a lot. like why he’s always staring at you now, for one. he probably wants to hold your hand and cuddle you and go ice skating with you and cook with you and kiss his beloved  _hyung_ \--”

kyungsoo stands up so fast his laptop almost falls off the sofa but doesn’t, thankfully. he feels his cheeks burning and his fists shaking and before he can stop himself he grabs a cushion and punctuates his every word with a blow to whatever part of baekhyun’s body he can reach. “ _baekhyun--shut--the--fuck--up--you--little--_ ”

“kyungsoo.”

he assumes it’s his dormant voice of reason speaking up but it’s really just jongdae (practically the same thing anyway) leaning against the doorway of his room, arms crossed over his chest and looking disapproving. christ.

“you’re lucky jongdae’s around.” kyungsoo tosses the cushion to baekhyun’s face, receiving a whimper in return, before walking over to jongdae.

“what,” he says to jongdae’s dumb cheekbones.

“step into my office.” jongdae turns to give way for kyungsoo to enter his bedroom.

kyungsoo obliges reluctantly, snorting. “your ‘office’--christ,” he mutters. he makes himself at home on jongdae’s bed, his face buried in a pillow.

jongdae sits at his desk, leaning back in his chair facing kyungsoo. “first off, you have got to stop going for baek’s neck every time his mouth turns into a regurgitating toilet, man. i’m seriously worried you’re gonna end up getting charged for murder these days. how are we supposed to debut our cover quartet with three people?”

“debut as a cover trio,” kyungsoo mumbles into his pillow.

“not funny. okay, for real, what’s up with you and jongin?”

“ _nothing_ is up with me and jongin.”

“uh huh.” jongdae is infuriating sometimes.

“okay, fine, i was being stupid and kissed him this one time without thinking and it didn’t mean anything and jongin hasn’t said anything about it since and now i just want to crawl into a ditch and get swallowed up by the earth or by something horrible with teeth.”

“aw, soo- _yah_ ,” jongdae murmurs sympathetically, his voice softer. “it’s not that bad. jongin could be a prick and pack his bags and move as far away from you as possible. but he’s not. a prick, that is. and he hasn’t declared his undying hatred for you, there’s that.”

“i’m so stupid,” kyungsoo groans.

“wow. it’s affecting you so much.” jongdae sounds almost in awe. “you must really like him.”

he rolls over and sits up on the mattress. “i  _don’t_ \--jongin is just--he’s just  _jongin_ , just a kid who is really goddamn cute sometimes and i just--don’t want him to be sad ever so i just--it was one kiss, a really, really stupid kiss, that was  _it_ \--”

“uh huh.”

infuriating.

“just tell me what to do, jongdae. you’re good at that.”

“wish i could, kid, believe me, but--hearts aren’t my forte. they never really were.”

his eyes aren’t meeting kyungsoo’s now, seeming to have shifted to a spot past kyungsoo’s shoulder, to the bed across from his own.

\---

hanyang university’s dance team holds a rookie showcase night every year to give the first-years a stage (albeit a small one) all to themselves for their debut. most of them usually play it safe with covers of idol group choreography, but there are always the ballsy freshmen who come up with their own routines. kyungsoo hears all this from yixing who’s in his senior year of studying philosophy but trains with the dance team regularly. as with all the first-year dance majors, jongin’s performing too. so, naturally, the entire kyocharo crew attends the event, including the ones who wouldn’t have done so under other circumstances (namely, kyungsoo and minseok).

“i’m not even sure whether or not i’ve seen his routine yet since i don’t know who he’s grouped up with,” yixing says, as he stands next to kyungsoo in the crowd that eagerly awaits the start of the showcase to be announced by the mc. “but i know his facilitator and according to her, he’s definitely--something else.”

“how are we supposed to know when jongin’s on stage?” baekhyun asks, his arms flung over kyungsoo’s shoulders to lean on him like an insufferable koala bear. “if we don’t know his group’s name.”

“you’ll know.” the boarders all turn around to look at sehun, who’s smirking like he knows something. he looks more gormless than mysterious so kyungsoo shrugs it off and watches the mc get the crowd hyped up.

performance after performance takes the stage by storm, not one failing to end with due applause and screaming. kyungsoo keeps scanning the faces for a familiar one, but so far, no dice. he’s about to leave to get another drink from one of the several kiosks some feet from where the throng is situated, until--

“up next is rookie number twelve, give it up for--kai!”

kyungsoo’s head whips toward the stage as soon as he hears the music start because he’s  _heard_ it before, leaking out of kim jongin’s earphones on loop.

“ _what_ ?” he hears yixing say. “he’s a soloist! there hasn’t been a first-year soloist since rookie showcase 2012!”

kim jongin himself is on stage, in a simple black outfit and a cap atop his head, but right now he is so utterly unlike the jongin kyungsoo sees in kyocharo, he’s something else entirely--he’s not kim jongin under the glare of the spotlight, he’s kai.

it’s a pleasant jazz song jongin has picked, the instruments blending into something that brought to mind the curves of a treble clef, which is the probably the strangest synesthesia-type shit kyungsoo’s ever come up with but jongin--jongin  _understands_ , he makes the notes and chords and lyrics  _visible_ on the stage and he’s sharp and soft and heavy and light all at the same time, in just the right amounts, in all the right beats. the expression on his face is cocky, almost obscenely so, like he owns the entire venue--which was true, in a way, because he holds everyone’s gaze with his body and kyungsoo is finding it very hard to look anywhere else. the way his hips roll, his shifts in weight, his contained jumps, his tilted shoulders, his balanced spins--everything is smoothly executed in some form of effortless flamboyance. jongin switches between smirks, grins, and the default pout of his plump lips, yet they all end up looking overtly sexual paired with his lidded eyes that rile kyungsoo up because jongin  _knows_ the effect he has on everyone, goddammit.

and then it’s over, with one flick of the wrist.

\---

the rest of the showcase is forgotten now that jongin has taken his bows and is part of the crowd, the boarders taking turns ruffling his hair or thumping him on the back in congratulation. he goes through the line of _hyungs_ (plus the two other _maknaes_ ) until he’s shuffled right in front of kyungsoo. jongin’s cap is scrunched in his two hands; he looks ten times younger now that kai has disappeared with the thundering applause he’d received for his performance. he's doing that annoying _thing_ that he does, the thing where he looks at you from under his eyelashes while a tiny smile plays across his face.

“i--” kyungsoo begins, before he even knows what to say. “you--that was--you were great. i mean. _great_ doesn’t even begin to cover it--that was just really, really--”

jongin saves him before he embarrasses himself even more. “thanks, _hyung_.” the tiny smile widens into a grin and kyungsoo now confirms that he is well and truly fucked over.

a tiny glint of something flashes in jongin’s eyes and kyungsoo barely registers the fact that jongin is now tugging him by the wrist, out of the crowd and into the darkness behind the corner of the science building.

“jongin--what are you--”

this time it’s jongin who kisses him in the dark.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> or, alternately, shameless awkward kaisoo fluff w wtf pacing. tHIS IS SO BAD BUT HERE PT 3 OF MY BABIES. it's been real

kyungsoo is starting to be a little more in love with the world. he sees the godlight in the sunbeams from the slit in between the curtains that make his eyes crack open. he hears the aurora in the swirl of quiet music that seeps under the door--a song by the ray, courtesy of baekhyun, he guesses. he feels the lightning in the warm, charged air beneath the blankets as his eyes outline every contour, every corner of the sleeping figure beside him.

kyungsoo is on his side, propped up on his elbow, his head cradled by his hand. jongin remains asleep on kyungsoo's pillow--it's a saturday morning, kyungsoo can hardly blame him. there is not enough time for kyungsoo to inhale all of jongin--his disheveled tufts of brown hair, the slight part of his lips, the way his oversized shirt drapes across his shoulders and chest, the childlike manner in how he curls up on his side.

kyungsoo realizes it's not really the world he's in love with. just jongin. he sees no difference between the two, anyway.

\---

“why is breakfast so late today,” chanyeol whines. kyungsoo has the conscience to look apologetic, his head bowed as he sets the last side dish on the table in front of the eager boarders. a chorus of “i’ll eat well” rings around the table before they dig in enthusiastically. the clock reads eleven-oh-eight which adds a pang of guilt on kyungsoo’s shoulders. he prepared an extra batch of  _bindaeddeok_ to make up for his lateness; it’s more of a large brunch now than just breakfast.

eating in the morning is usually a quiet affair, save for the sounds of chewing, clinking utensils, and muttered requests to pass the  _banchan_ around. kyungsoo is in the middle of swallowing a piece of meat when a particularly loud _clang_ of chopsticks against plate is heard and suddenly he feels jongin’s head fall into the crook of his neck. he feels his face turn pink as jongin’s nose rubs against his skin.

he is possibly the only person kyungsoo knows with the ability to fall asleep at the table.

the table is even quieter now, the rest of the boarders halting their eating to stare at them.

after what seems like an eternity, jongdae decides to break the silence with “so, kyungsoo.” he cups his neck with a hand, elbow on the table, as if he were discussing a new restaurant that had opened up on the corner. “is there something you’d like to share with us?”

kyungsoo busies himself with arranging and rearranging the bits of vegetables on his plate to avoid the knowing eyes and snickers around the table. the “be quiet, jongdae” he mumbles is half-hearted. jongin is still leaning against him, his breath coming in slow, warm drafts against kyungsoo’s neck.

at least he doesn’t have to worry about telling the others now.

\---

[  **sms: jongin** ]  _where r u hyung? practice just finished._

[  **sms: soo-hyung♡** ]  _meeting’s running late just go home ahead of me_

[  **sms: jongin** ]  _but_

[  **sms: soo-hyung♡** ]  _you’re just going to tire yourself out for nothing_

[  **sms: jongin** ]  _ㅠ ㅠ_

[  **sms: soo-hyung♡** ]  _jongin-ah. go home_

[  **sms: jongin** ]  _ㅠ ㅠ ok hyung_

kyungsoo aligns his papers before slipping them inside his folder. his least favorite part of glee club competitions was always all the planning that didn’t go into the singing itself--costumes, lighting, venue reservation for practices, et cetera, et cetera--they sometimes run as late as nine o’clock. it’s stressful, but every time he remembers his first competition as a lowly freshman, he thinks it’s definitely worth it. he’d have functioned better tonight if jongdae, lu han, and baekhyun were around, but he knows they all had evening tests to take. he slings his backpack over his shoulder, bidding his  _sunbaes_ goodbye and being bid goodbye to by his  _hoobaes_ on the way out.

he stops at the foot of the stairs because there is someone sitting on the floor next to the exit of the building wearing a very familiar striped sweater.

it’s jongin, kyungsoo sees once he gets closer, asleep against the wall and clutching a paper bag with a cafe la lieto logo on the front.

“jongin,” kyungsoo murmurs, kneeling on one knee next to him to put a hand on an unresponsive jongin’s shoulder. “jongin- _ah_ ,” he repeats, a little louder. he gets distracted, smoothing down locks of jongin’s dark hair, until the sleeping boy stirs from the repetitive touches.

“i told you to go home,” kyungsoo says disapprovingly, watching jongin rub his eyes.

“i don’t like walking alone.” jongin pouts and kyungsoo almost wants to raise his eyes skyward and indignantly ask god if he was seeing this shit.

he sighs and gets up from the ground. “well, now you don’t have to, i guess.” he holds out his hand and jongin takes it, pulling himself up to stand. kyungsoo expects him to let go afterward but jongin fits his fingers in between kyungsoo’s and tightens his grip. kyungsoo feels like his insides are filled with feathers and he almost wants to laugh out of sheer euphoria.

“i got you spaghetti,” jongin says, holding out the paper bag. he looks like a child, especially with his eyes still squinty from sleep. kyungsoo can’t resist an amused grin after that so he takes the bag with his free hand and gives jongin a kiss on the jaw for his effort.

\---

“here, you put in the rest of the raspberries,” kyungsoo says. “i’ll take care of the batter.” jongin obediently sprinkles in the last of the fruit, after which kyungsoo scrapes the batter bowl clean into the cake pan. it’s a simple lemon cake with raspberries that kyungsoo has always wanted to try out; now that kyocharo’s fifth anniversary is around the corner, he has an excuse to bring out his baking equipment again.

kyungsoo shuts the door of the oven with the cake pan inside and proceeds to clear the counter of measuring cups and spoons and bowls and used-up lemons and eggshells. jongin sneaks his hand over kyungsoo’s, interlocking their fingers. kyungsoo pauses. “jongin.”

“mm?”

“how am i supposed to clean up when you have my other hand.”

jongin shrugs. jongin is very tactile with his affection, kyungsoo has noticed. kyungsoo’s hand is usually a target, for one. there’s also his neck, the small of his back, sometimes his ears--it’s been weeks but he’s still not used to the prickling static traces jongin leaves on his skin. jongin is soft and warm and there are mornings when kyungsoo just wants to stay in the sheets with him forever.

jongin is bolder than usual today, not that kyungsoo is complaining. he leans in to press his lips against kyungsoo’s. kyungsoo puts down the plate in his other hand and reaches up to thread his fingers through jongin’s hair. he can work with this, he thinks.

unfortunately, lu han chooses that very moment to walk in. “i smell suuugaaar--okay, gross?”

kyungsoo lets go of jongin but his hand remains in the other’s tight hold. he looks down, unable to hold back a grin, but he can tell jongin has the audacity to pout at him. lu han is unperturbed by the awkwardness in the air as he strides over to the fridge to pour himself some water.

“is this like, a korean thing? do you guys just make out with each other wherever?” lu han asks, indignantly furrowing his brows at them from behind his glass. “i mean, have you ever suspected that sehun and i are going out?”

kyungsoo and jongin shake their heads slowly. come to think of it, kyungsoo has never once seen them sitting beside each other, even, but apparently--

“exactly.” lu han nods. “that’s how you do it. when it comes to subtlety, we’re goals, man. you’re welcome for the complete lack of his tongue down my throat on display. but like. y’know. keep it on the down low. us dating, i mean. especially from junmyeon. he’s not ready for that. according to him, sehun is still an innocent flower fetus who may or may not know how exactly humans reproduce.” he shakes his head at the ground. “oh, junmyeon. anyway! please exchange saliva in the privacy of your own room. i mean, come on, you room together, the possibilities are endless. and also! i demand first slice of whatever’s in there”--he jerks his head toward the oven--”as compensation for the sight my delicate eyeballs had to witness. good night, lovebirds,” he calls over his shoulder as he leaves the kitchen.

ah, lu han- _hyung_ , kyungsoo thinks. best described as a whirlwind of  _what the fuck_ . he and jongin shrug at each other.

“we should’ve never let him get so good at korean,” kyungsoo says.

\---

for them, spoken ‘i love you’s are like shiny new coins you keep at the bottom of your wallet because you don’t want to spend them just yet. ‘i love you’s happen quietly, in the darkness of their room, because kyungsoo was never one for theatrics. the dark feels safe, he feels safe enough to let as many ‘i love you’s as he wants leave his mouth to fill the darkness like stars, each of them shining brightly but not as brightly as his jongin does.

\---

sometimes kyungsoo forgets that stars are very, very far away.

he remembers when he reads the words “dear kim jongin, it is a pleasure to inform you that the boston conservatory has selected you as a scholar for the class of 2013!” printed on the sheet of folded paper jongin had handed to him silently. the rest of it blurs into nonsense, kyungsoo’s mind far too crowded with a billion thoughts going at sixty miles a second to process anything.

“tuition and allowance for a full four years,  _hyung_ ,” he whispers. kyungsoo can’t even look at him. his eyes are stuck on the paper he’s holding. “they’re paying for my plane ticket, too. i’m supposed to leave by next week.”

kyungsoo so desperately wants to hear nothing nothing nothing but he hears everything he doesn’t want to anyway and his hands are shaking now so he drops them to his sides, the letter fluttering to the floor of their room.

“am i supposed to just let you go?” kyungsoo prides himself on being able to sound like he’s standing on concrete when he’s really just barely hanging onto fraying ropes. he likes his steady voice. it makes him sound like he needs nothing, needs no one. because needing means you’ve lost already. you cared more. game over. done.

jongin stands from his place on the bed, his hands coming up to cup kyungsoo’s face and no no  _no he doesn’t want this_ . kyungsoo finally looks at him and jongin’s eyes are wet and kyungsoo feels like running away because he didn’t sign up for this, any of this.

jongin leans his forehead against kyungsoo’s--he’s warm, kyungsoo thinks, everything is warm warm warm but kyungsoo is empty. “kyungsoo.” his voice cracks and kyungsoo feels himself crack too. “you know i’d tear this letter apart in a heartbeat if you asked me to.”

kyungsoo knows what jongin is saying and what he’s not. jongin isn’t saying he doesn’t want to go, he’s saying he does. jongin is saying he would stay inside an unlocked birdcage if kyungsoo still left him seeds. but kyungsoo knows that birds belong outside the window.

so he makes jongin fly out, up, and away and keeps his window closed. it’s winter, anyway.

\---

kyungsoo hopes jongin is a comet. comets come back. it takes a while, but they do.

kyungsoo watches the sky every night, waiting for his world to light up again.


End file.
